


sweet dreams (are made of this)

by Anonymous



Series: ray's anonymous SPN fics [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel's Handprint (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, Dean Winchester Has a Sexuality Crisis, Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Dream Sex, Handprint Kink (Supernatural), Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Castiel (Supernatural), Praise Kink, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Touch-Starved Dean Winchester, goodbye plot, kinda dubcon?? not rlly tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29135223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "There is a mysterious attraction between us and Heaven. God wants us, and we want God." - Eugenie de GuerinCastiel cannot reveal himself to Dean Winchester yet- now is not the time. Well, not in the waking world, anyway. But the Righteous Man's self-loathing is stronger than Castiel had anticipated, even in dreams. So he locks Dean's nightmares away and comes up with a better way to occupy his mind...** SECOND PART IN "I'LL WATCH OVER YOU" SERIES **
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: ray's anonymous SPN fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2187897
Comments: 6
Kudos: 117
Collections: Anonymous





	sweet dreams (are made of this)

**Author's Note:**

> hello and welcome to the first smut i've written in... a very long time. hopefully i'm not _too_ rusty. anyway, have this- whatever it is. this was originally supposed to be way rougher and a lot more kinky but then i got soft and, well, here we are. hope you enjoy <33

Dean Winchester has a bad habit surrounding his alcohol consumption habits. Rather, Dean is essentially a high-functioning alcoholic. Castiel knows without even having to look down on him- he had to completely replace Dean's liver when he rebuilt him after Hell. But it may be a blessing in disguise, tonight. 

The younger brother, Sam Winchester, has declined to get drunk with him and has gone out, presumably to the club down the street from the motel the two are staying at. Dean is drinking still, staring at the opposite wall and not fidgeting, for once. It gives Castiel the chance to idly admire Dean's throat as he swallows.

Dean wouldn't have to resort to liquor and depression to stay still if Castiel could have his way, he thinks. He would train Dean, make him want to follow orders the way he knew Dean could. He would allow the sarcastic, brazen, defiant parts of him to stay, of course- they are part of Dean, and he would never think of changing him so fundamentally. But he would be so _sweet_ under Castiel, made obedient and coming only when ordered to. White-hot, twisted lust soars through Castiel, and he has to hold himself back so he does not inadvertently reveal himself. Because now is not the time, not yet. 

The human eventually moves from the chair he has been slumped in for the past thirty minutes to one of the twin beds in the room, the one closest to the door. It is moments like this that make Castiel want to show himself the most. Dean does not even realize what he's doing, not really- if anyone were to break in, Dean would be first in the line of fire, first to face it. It has always been like this for him. This cautious, dangerous, lonely life is all Dean Winchester knows, and Castiel desperately yearns to show him something different, give him the peace and goodness he has always deserved. 

Dean sits, back resting against the headboard of the bed. And he has the good sense to kick off his boots before he swings his feet up and onto the bedding, at least. Tipping his head back to rest it against the wood, he exhales through his nose and then, finally, moves to crawl under the covers. Castiel decides to chase away Dean's nightmares for tonight. 

They come quickly. 

Dean does not remember much from Hell, Castiel made sure of that. But the human mind is finicky, and wants to recall everything, so memories come in flashes and echoes. But then they begin to take an alarming turn, away from Hell and towards Sam Winchester's death, their childhood, and a memory of a then-four year old Dean standing outside of a burning house with a baby in his arms. And while the memories are fleeting, the roiling emotions they bring about remain. Anger, always anger. Fear and sadness, with their claws sunk deep into Dean's very soul. A vague sense of emptiness, that Castiel always finds hidden beneath all the rest of them, an aching for a feeling Dean cannot describe and a home Dean doesn't have. 

The most confusing thing about these emotions is that, in the end, they are usually aimed at _himself_. The memory of Sam being stabbed in the back by a half-demon is accompanied by all of the emotions. Anger at the hybrid, and Dean himself. Fear for Sam, sadness for him. The emptiness persists, opening wider and threatening to swallow Dean whole. And then there is a deep, dark, vivid splash of hatred. _Why couldn't you save him?_ Dean's thoughts hiss at him, _you couldn't save him, just like you couldn't save Meg, or anybody-_

Castiel cuts that stream of thought off right where it is, slamming the nightmares back into their respective corners of Dean's mind where they won't cause more trouble. He is angry, yes, but not at Dean (not at Dean, never at Dean). He is angry at everyone who _ever_ hurt Dean, angry at every person who didn't treat Dean like they should have, like the precious being that he is. How _dare_ they?

He forces himself to take a moment to steady himself. Dean wasn't Castiel's then, but he is now, and that is what matters. He can do nothing about the past but keep it from plaguing Dean in the present as best as he can. 

Looking back into Dean's dreams, Castiel sees that he must have just missed something, some change of pace in the man's mind. Because now, instead of bitter self-loathing, there is- there's _arousal,_ creeping up and clouding Dean's head. 

It's in that moment that Castiel knows exactly what he has to do. 

He conjures up a dream, and within it, a place. It's a bedroom with a large bed in the middle, a bathroom just adjacent to it, and a large window to the right of the bed. Castiel walks over to it, in his new vessel (no need to burn the man's eyes out, even in a dream), and thinks a little about fucking Dean against it, but instead calls back the memory of Dean, forced into a leadership role at such a young age, which cools him quickly and cements his change of plans. See, some need a firm hand to keep them in line, some take better to gentle guiding, and some need both. Dean is rebellious and stubborn, but underneath, Castiel is sure, he's a good boy. In fact, Castiel _knows_ that is the case- he rebuilt Dean from dust and has seen every memory, every base instinct he possesses. 

Despite his instincts to not share Dean, Castiel also creates a visage of a pretty woman, just Dean's type, to get him to enter the bedroom. So when the door opens behind him, the sharp intake of breath that follows is practically music to his ears. _Dean._ His hunger is like a roaring fire now, stoked by this lovely man's presence. The girl disappears. 

"What-" Dean says as Castiel turns around. His green eyes are wide, and Castiel takes a moment to admire them. 

"Hello, Dean," Castiel says, enjoying how deep and gravelly the vessel's voice is, and the way Dean shivers a little at it. 

"W-where's the girl?" he asks, uncharacteristically nervous. Castiel just takes a step closer. 

"She isn't real," he says slowly. 

"And you are," Dean says, straightening up. His face goes hard and closes off, anger a more steady platform to stand on than fear. 

"Yes," Castiel answers, closing the gap between them so that they are chest to chest. 

"Hey, I-" Dean says, protesting weakly. "I'm not- I'm not gay, man." 

"You don't need to be." 

"I-" 

"Dean," Castiel interrupts, reaching out to wrap his fingers around the other man's wrists. "Let me do this. Put aside your fears and trust me, know that I will take care of you." Dean stays stiff for a moment, fists clenched- but then he relaxes, mumbling something about weird dreams and _I'm still not gay_. Honestly, Castiel was expecting a lot more resistance. 

"Good," he murmurs, pushing Dean over to the bed until the backs of his knees hit the wood. Castiel leans forward and captures Dean's lips with his own. It's a sweet, slow kiss- it's supposed to be. There's no need to rush, and he wants to savor every moment of the sensation of Dean's skin sliding against his. 

Castiel gently pulls at Dean's flannel, tugging it down his arms until it drops to the floor behind them. He is unable to stop himself from sliding his hand under the sleeve of the other man's t-shirt and placing his hand firmly over his handprint. Dean shudders against him, letting out a tiny whimper. He grinds his hips up into Castiel's helplessly, and Castiel pulls away from Dean's spit-slick lips to push him down and get him to sit on the bed. He doesn't move his hand. 

Standing between Dean's legs, the angel leans down and kisses him again. Dean tries to control the pace, which is amusing. Castiel humors him for a moment, then takes over, overwhelming Dean with his tongue and teeth. He slips his other hand under Dean's shirt, helping him out of it and exposing more of the other man's skin as Dean does the same with his vessel's button-down shirt. 

"So beautiful," Castiel says, squeezing the brand gently. Dean gasps, throwing his head back, and Castiel ducks his head to kiss Dean's neck and along his jawline. He sucks little bruises into his neck and collarbone and almost purrs, thinking about marking his boy where everyone can see. 

He pushes Dean back, further up the bed. Castiel mumbles in Enochian as he kisses his way down Dean's body, words of protection, promises of love, and most importantly, Castiel's _name_ , over and over. He rubs at Dean's nipples- he knows how sensitive they are. Dean lets out a quiet moan and Castiel chuckles, leaning up and swiping his tongue across one of them. 

"Oh- oh god-" the human stutters, one of his hands flying up to tangle its fingers in the vessel's hair. Castiel finds it quite enjoyable when he tugs on it. Dean arches his back and presses his hips to Castiel's, grinding up against him. 

"Patience," Castiel says, pushing Dean's hips back into the mattress. Dean squirms in his hold for a moment, but when Castiel fixes him with a look, he stills. "Good boy," he says, voice dark and husky, into Dean's ear. He feels Dean shudder beneath him, which is an _immensely_ gratifying feeling. He pulls back to look down at his human- Dean is flushed, eyes wide and pleading. A thin layer of sweat starts to bead up on Dean's forehead, neck and chest, which Castiel finds incredibly tempting. He buries his face in Dean's neck, licking a broad stripe from his collarbone to his jaw. He tastes salty, and the scent of him makes Castiel almost dizzy. 

He _wants._ He wants Dean so much. His vessel's cock is hard against Dean's hip and he can't help but rock his pelvis into the other man's thigh. Dean gasps, trying to do the same, but Castiel is still holding his hips down. He decides to be charitable and move one hand to gently pin Dean's wrists above his head, slotting his knee between Dean's thighs. The human makes a strangled noise, and _oh,_ that's interesting. Dean likes to be restrained. 

"Dean," the angel rasps. "Oh, my good boy." He looks up just in time to see Dean close his eyes and press his lips together, swallowing back a noise. He reaches up and grasps Dean's chin- "Don't hide from me," he rumbles, "I want to hear you." Dean exhales shakily and nods, eyes fluttering shut at Castiel's touch. He knows Dean's touch-starved- nobody touches him, gives him affection like they should. Castiel will fix that. 

He does pull back slightly, intending to slot their cocks together, but as soon as he shifts, Dean's eyes fly open, panic in his gaze. He lets out a tiny cry and tries to push against Castiel's hold, tries to get closer. So Castiel makes the rest of the movement quickly, completely straddling Dean now. He leans back over and rains soft kisses on Dean's face, placing his hand over the print on Dean's shoulder. His eyes are wide and starting to glass over, tiny hitched noises coming out of his mouth every time Castiel touches him. 

"I'm not going anywhere," he says firmly, looking down at his human. "Do you understand, Dean?" Dean nods, but Castiel's not satisfied. "I need you to say it." 

"Yeah," Dean says, voice cracking slightly. "I- I get it." 

"Good," Castiel praises. "If you don't like anything, or you feel uncomfortable or scared, you will tell me. Is that clear?" 

"Uh-huh," he nods vigorously. 

"I will not punish you for telling me what you find displeasing," Castiel continues. "You will not be in trouble, understood?" 

"Yeah," Dean repeats. He arches up against Castiel, taking advantage of his distraction. "Please." 

"You're so pretty, Dean," Castiel runs his fingers through Dean's hair. "So beautiful, so strong. I'm very proud of you, Dean." Dean flushes and looks away, but Castiel's having none of that. His fingers tighten in Dean's hair. "Be polite, sweetheart. What do you say when someone compliments you, hm?" 

"Thank you," he mumbles, and Castiel kisses him on the cheek when he flushes an even darker shade of pink. 

"Good boy," he says, and decides to reward Dean for his behavior by grinding his crotch against Dean's. Dean makes a soft, surprised noise and stares up at Castiel as he continues, rolling his hips and delighting in the sounds his human makes. 

"Oh _god_ ," Dean whines, "Please, please-" 

"You want more?" Castiel asks, his vessel's voice even deeper with arousal. 

"Yeah," he gasps. "I want- I just _want_ , _please_ ," and Castiel takes pity on him and doesn't make him vocalize the rest. 

"I'm going to move just a little, sweet boy," he says. "Keep your hands where they are." Dean nods, and so he shifts from straddling him to spreading his legs and settling between them. A bottle of lube appears beside Dean's thigh as Castiel unzips Dean's pants, gently urging him to lift his hips so he can pull them and his boxers off. 

"Has anyone ever touched you down here before, Dean?" Castiel asks, pressing a finger to Dean's perineum, making him jerk in surprise.

Just as Castiel goes to ask his question again, Dean stutters, "No, n-nobody." And Castiel is very smug about that- no one's ever touched Dean here, nobody's ever gotten the chance to fuck him. Castiel will be the first, and he will make it good enough that no one else will ever be able to satisfy him. 

He slicks up his fingers and coos to Dean as he slowly circles the rim of Dean's pretty, pink hole. When he finally slides his index finger inside Dean, the human gasps and rocks down, forcing it deeper. Castiel can tell that it touches Dean's prostate by how he moans and tries to do it again. 

"Hush, Dean." he says, holding Dean's hips down again with one hand. "You've never done this before, so we're going to go slow." Dean whines, but stops moving and lets him slide a second finger in. He pushes them in and out a few times and admires how the rim of Dean's hole clenches around them. 

"Fuck," Dean hisses as Castiel adds a third, trying desperately to get them deeper. The angel just chuckles and continues to move his fingers at the same slow, steady pace. "Please," he begs. "I'm ready, I can take more." 

"You're ready when I say you are," Castiel growls. "Stay still." Dean obediently goes limp as he slides his fourth finger in. 

"Oh- _oh_ ," the human moans, breathing hard. "God, fuck me," he pleads, voice hitching when Castiel pushes in particularly hard and presses against his prostate. "Fuck me, fuck me please-" Castiel groans, unable to wait anymore. He unbuttons his pants, slipping out of them quickly, and slicking up his cock. 

Crawling up Dean's body, Castiel captures his lips with his own before positioning himself at Dean's hole. They lock eyes as he sinks in slowly, but halfway through Dean breaks eye contact to throw his head back, arms still resting above him. 

"Good boy," Castiel gasps as he bottoms out, one hand on Dean's hip and the other planted beside his head to hold him up. "So good for me, aren't you, baby?" Dean lets out a wordless cry when Castiel pulls out, then an almost-sob when he pushes back in, getting faster with every thrust. Castiel's nails are digging into his hip and he writhes beneath the angel, hair wild and eyes squeezed shut. When Castiel slams into Dean's prostate, his mouth opens in a silent scream. Castiel's talking, he knows he is- constantly praising Dean, telling him how pretty he is, how good he's being. 

"Oh fuck," Dean cries out, "Please, please, oh," and he probably doesn't even know what he's begging for, which only excites Castiel further. He snaps his hips, hitting Dean's prostate dead on with every thrust. He's sure to keep a steady rhythm, punishing as it is, and is very smug, knowing that a human would not have the stamina for this. 

" _Mine_ ," Castiel snarls in Dean's ear, biting at Dean's neck. "All mine, Dean. My good boy. My pretty boy." 

Dean keens high in his throat. "Yeah, yeah, _yours_ , I-" Castiel groans and Dean presses himself closer. " _O_ _h god,_ I'm gonna, I'm gonna-" 

"Yes," he growls, almost breathless with how gorgeous Dean looks under him. "Come, Dean." 

"Please," the human gasps, shamelessly rubbing himself against Castiel. "Please, I need it." 

"You're coming on my cock or not at all," Castiel orders, reveling in Dean's choked-off moan. 

"Can't," he pants as Castiel gets faster. "I- please." The word ends in a garbled mess of curses and pleads. 

"You can," he says, "You will _._ Come for me, Dean. _No one will ever hurt you again_." And just like that, Dean arches off the bed with a broken sob and comes, painting Castiel's chest white with it. The sight of it alone is enough for Castiel to come, burying himself one more time in Dean's hole. " _Dean,_ " he groans, and comes deep inside of him, slumping over him.

When he opens his eyes again and slides out, Dean has his eyes closed, breath slow and steady, and in a few minutes he is fast asleep. Castiel looks at him- looks at the come trickling out of his red-rimmed hole, the bruises on his hip and his neck, and the sweat pooling in the dip of his collarbone. There has never been a prettier sight in all of existence. 

"My darling," Castiel whispers, pressing a soft kiss to Dean's lips. He knows this is the end, at least for tonight. But the time will come when he can show himself to Dean when he is awake, and that is worth waiting for. 

The dream dissipates, and if Castiel takes the liberty of leaving the largest bruise on Dean's neck as the only evidence of what happened, nobody can do anything about it. 

**Author's Note:**

> *sits in silence* 3k words of smut. where's my holy water
> 
> leave a comment or kudos if you liked this tho ;)


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